


i thought this was a cool idea

by sataninventedrollerskates



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, God Tier, Human/Troll Hybrids, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sataninventedrollerskates/pseuds/sataninventedrollerskates
Summary: Ugh. Your head hurts.You're lying on the floor of your block with no idea how or why or when you got here.-This isn't just a slight appearance change, it looks like a complete species change. How did this happen to you, and how do you fix it?





	1. Chapter 1

Ugh. Your head hurts.  
You're lying on the floor of your block with no idea how or why or when you got here. You clearly remember your planet exploding, your hive along with it, and the last time you checked, you were a universe away. Since when did your block exist again? You don't know.  
You try to sit up and see if you're physically sound, but it feels like you're crushing some part of you that wasn't there before. You instead stand up, and promptly realize that a) your skin is the wrong color and b) that you're wearing god tier robes. You reach a hand behind you and- yes, you have wings, that's what you were crushing.  
The buzz of your Doom powers in the back of your head is a lot louder, and you feel physically stronger, which means that you probably are god tier. You're also, according to the buzz of psionics in the back of your mind, completely alive and, judging by your actual vision, not blind. How and when did this happen?  
Next order of business; investigate the whole 'your skin is the wrong color' thing. You head to the ablution block, look in the mirror, and wow, what the hell happened to you?  
You look a lot different. It looks like you still bleed yellow, but you skin is yellow-white instead of grey and your hair is just plain white. Your horns are solid ochre, your eyes are red and blue, and your fangs are a little bit duller, but still uneven. This isn't just a slight appearance change, it looks like a complete species change. How did this happen to you, and how do you fix it?  
Now, to try and contact someone who knows more about the situation than you do. You head to your husktop, but it doesn't turn on. It's physically sound, all the cables are plugged in, but it won't start. You check your mainframes and- oh. They're not buzzing, which means one thing; the power's out. There go your hopes of contacting anyone via Trollian.  
You leave your block to try and find the breaker. Instead, you find that you're in some sort of communal hivestem that isn't the one you lived in on Alternia. The hallway outside is dark, empty, and circular, with hives on all sides and a sort of column-shaped atrium in the middle. You lean over the railing and discover that not only is this hivestem very, very tall, but you're near the top floor.  
The hives in this hivestem must be large, because there are only three others on this floor, all with doors marked with your symbol and an exponent from one to three. Yours is marked with four, and you envy whomever gets two. You've been outside exploring for a good fifteen minutes, and yet you haven't seen any other trolls, humans, or whatever you are now.  
Back inside your block, you insepct your resources. You have about two weeks' worth of food, a handful of catchpha cards, a cruxtruder (opened), a toten lathe, a punch designix, and an alchemeter. You also have enough grist to last you and six other trolls the rest of your lifespans, a strife specibus (pre-loaded with ninja-star-kind), and a bunch of electronics that no longer work.  
Speaking of electronics, no power means no wifi, and even though your palmhusk has almost eighty percent battery, it doesn't have a cell signal. One of your grubtops is dead, and the other is almost there. Your old Troll-tendo Grub-Boy is fully charged, and although you can't contact anyone with it, you do have Fiduspawn Silver, which will come in handy if you can't find anything to do.  
There's only one real, viable option left; try knocking on the other doors and seeing who answers. You know this, but instead, you spend a good half hour playing on your Grub-Boy. Then, you get distracted, and check on your bees, which are all sleeping because there's nothing left for them to do. Afterwards, you're bored, and what was it that you were supposed to be doing? Oh, yeah, right, trying to see if there's anyone else here.  
You trudge around the cirular hall once, looking up and down the atrium for movement. There's none, so you decide to try a more interactive approach. You hop over the railing and let your brand-new god tier wings carry you up to inspect the higher levels. There's nothing, so you hover down to the lower levels, leaving a trail of yellow glitter. After finding nothing, you let yourself drop to the floor of the lobby.  
There, Karkat, Terezi, Vriska, Aradia, and eight of the ex-humans are sitting around in groups, reading and talking by the light of Kanaya. They all look like you, species wise, with pale skin, white hair, and horns of their blood color. There are even a couple seadwellers with fins. Also, they're all in god tier robes, with various types of wings sprouting from their backs.  
Karkat spots you and trudges over to where you're standing.  
“You look like utter fucking garbage,” he says. “What’s the occasion?”  
“Y’know, it’s not every day that you get reincarnated as an alien,” you say.  
“That’s not the problem,” he says. “The problem is that everyone, absolutely fucking everyone, came with us. Do you know how many batshit insane highblood assholes I’ll have to scream at today? Not to goddamn mention that we’re all cooped together in this fucking building. I mean, seriously.”  
“Any collateral?” you ask.  
“None yet, thank fuck,” he says. “I’m still going to need help managing this shitshow, though. Maybe I’ll enlist you.”  
“KK,” you say, semi-condescending-ly. “I’m still not over the whole ‘alive and half-alien’ thing. Hell, I spent my first hour here procrastinating. How the shit do you expect me to help you manage people if I can’t even manage myself?”  
“Wait,” he says. “Is this the first fucking time you’ve been outside your goddamn block?”  
“I like how you still expect me to function like a normal troll,” you say. “It’s cute.”  
“Sollux fucking Captor,” he says. “We’ve been here for five whole shit-fucking hours, and this is the first time you’ve left your block? Unbelievable. It’s like I’m the only one here with any goddamn common sense.”  
“I know you say that in jest,” you say. “But if we don’t count Kanaya, you actually might be.”  
He stomps back over to the tiny gathering. "Look who fucking showed up!"  
"His timing isn't bad," Aradia says. "He was half-dead, so he only woke up an hour ago."  
"So four hours was the halfway point between the alive and the dead waking up," the former human in triangular shades says. "That gives us what, three hours until god-knows how many people wake up?"  
"Well, there are 24 Beforus trolls, and all of them are- were- deceased, plus the six dead Alternia trolls and all twelve of their ancestors," one of the freshly minted seadwellers says. "That makes 42. Add the pre- and post- scratch human guardians, as well as John and Jane's fathers, and you have 52. Add the cherubs and their guardians, and you get 56. There were a total of 33 independent sprites, including lusii-sprites, but some may or may not wake up depending on how stable they were. That means anywhere from 56 to 92 people."  
"I have an idea," another one of the ex-humans, this time a breath player, says. "Doesn't each individual have a respiteblock? We could just go through each floor and count them."  
"That's a wonderful fucking idea, John," Karkat says. "In fact, why don't you go and do that, right now?"  
"No," John says. "I'm the leader, I'm supposed to be doing important leaderly things with you. We should delegate someone else."  
"Fine," Karkat says. "Sollux and Aradia, you can do it, since you like running off and leaving the group so much."  
You look at Aradia. Aradia looks at you.  
"I'll start at the top, you can start at the bottom, and we'll meet in the middle," she suggests.  
You nod. "Fine with me."  
The respiteblocks are arranged in a sort of hemospectral order, with tyrian at the bottom and rust at the top. There are, instead of six, ten floors between the lobby and jade, with forty-five blocks in total, which, combined with the thirty-four Aradia counts in the nine floors between teal and the roof, makes seventy-nine people in total. Subtract those of you that are already awake, and you get sixty-five people that are going to wake up in about two and a half hours.  
Both you and Aradia head back down to the lobby to share your findings, only to find Karkat finishing up a rant.  
"In conclusion," he says. "We have two and a half fucking hours until at least 56 people wake up, as god tiers, with no idea where they are and why they aren't dead. That number includes the larval form of Lord English, the motherfucking Condesce, the GHB, the Signless, a bunch of other crazy goddamn adults, and a lot of people who have real fucking problems with each other. It would be so much fucking easier if I could get everyone in line with a speech, or a statement, or even a goddamn Trollian memo," he says. "Does anyone have any goddamn suggestions?"  
Everyone looks at each other, but no one says anything.  
"Wonderful," Karkat says. "Sollux, Aradia, did you manage to figure out how many people we're going to have to deal with?"  
"Sixty-five people, split over nineteen floors," Aradia says.   
Karkat sighs. "This is going to be the worst fucking thing."

-

"T-minus 15 minutes," Dave says.  
In the two hours you've been down in the lobby trying to figure out what to do when everyone else wakes up, you've managed to learn the names of all of the ex-humans. Rose and Roxy are the two seadwellers, violet and tyrian respectively, Dave and Dirk are the burgundy and bronze bloods, Jade and Jake are the lime and jade bloods, and John and Jane are the two leaders, indigo and teal, respectively.  
No one has come up with any ideas other than to try and weather it out. Everyone's god tier, so any deaths probably won't be permanent, and there will be some stable adults who have a better sense of what they're doing. Karkat's been banned from trying to take control of and lead everyone, simply to keep him from dying over and over again. You, Aradia, Vriska, Dave, Roxy and Dirk have been instructed to restrain anyone who exhibits homicidal tendencies, and Kanaya and Rose have been designated as internim auspistices.  
"T-minus 10 minutes," Dave says.  
You wonder what your ancestors will be like. You mean, you've met Mituna before, but you wonder if he'll have his brain damage healed by the resurrection. You don't even know the titles of your official ancestors, let alone what they're like, and you're sort of nervous to meet them.  
You are very nervous to be designated to restrain dangerous people. Most of them are, well, highbloods that are much older and strnger than you are. You're god tier, and you think you know how to use you Doom powers (according to Rose, you not only hear the voices of the imminently deceased, you can speed up or slow down the aging process for anyone you choose), as well as a helmsman-grade psion, and you definitely know how to use those powers. Will you be able to defend yourself? Yes. Will you be able to restrain anyone? Maybe.  
"T-minus 5 minutes," Dave says.  
"Alright," Rose says. "Does everyone know what they're supposed to be doing?"  
You nod, as does everyone else.  
"Does everyone have their strife specibus?" she asks.  
Everyone nods again. You hear a series of clicks as weapons are equipped, so you slide your shuriken out of your specibus and into your left hand.  
"Good," Rose says. "Now, remember, unless you do something incredibly stupid, you aren't going to die permanently. There are sane, capable adults here, and I don't doubt that they will be able to get everything under control if we give them the time. Anything and everything will blow over eventually. Is everyone ready?"  
Everyone nods for the third and final time.  
"Good luck," Rose says.  
"T-minus 1 minute," Dave says.  
You look over to Aradia. She gives you finger guns and a wink, which you return.  
"T-minus 45 seconds," Dave says.  
You hear a sudden caucophony of voices. All of them are adult voices you don't recognize, and they go silent after a few seconds, signaling god tier resurrections.   
"T-minus 30 seconds," Dave says.  
"Any voices, Sollux?" Rose asks.  
"Several," you say. "None that won't come back to life."  
She nods.  
"T-minus 15 seconds," Dave says.  
"Any more?" Rose asks.  
"Nope, just those original few," you say.  
"Go time!" you hear Dave yell, followed by a series of thumps.


	2. death?

You wait in the lobby, weapons equipped, for a good thirty minutes, but none of the newly resurrected god tiers think to leave the floors they're on. There's a caucophony of voices in the atrium, and a bit of shouting.  
"Should we go up and meet with our, y'know, families?" John asks. "Hearing all of those joyous reunions and happy meetings is kind of bumming me out."  
"That's a good idea," Jade says. "I'd love to meet my alpha self."  
"Aren't we supposed to be managing things and mediating conflict?" Dirk asks, eyebrow raised.  
"If there's any fighting," Jake says. "Don't you'll suppose we'll hear it? This building echoes like nothing I've ever seen before."  
"Fine," Karkat says. "Go, if you want to. I'm staying down here."  
You, Aradia, Terezi, Vriska, Jane, John, Rose, Roxy, Dave, Dirk, Jade, and Jake all forsake your responsibilites for meeting your ancestors, guardians, and alpha selves. Kanaya joins you a minute later, as Rose and Roxy cheerfully reunite with their guardians, leaving Karkat in the lobby by himself. You've almost made it to your floor when he himself forsakes his post, abandoning the lobby for his guardians.  
You make it to the sixteenth floor and hop over the railing closest to your door. It's closed, but the doors marked with 1 and 3 are open. 2 is closed as well, but you can hear movement from inside, so you knock on the door. There's a series of heavy footsteps, then it flies open.  
"Sollux!" Mituna yells.  
He yanks you inside of (presumably) his block, babbling excitedly about ancestors and dream bubbles.   
"So, yeah," he finishes. "I got my brains and my psionics back, and some bitchin' new god tier powers, and two ancestors, and a descendant. It's totally radical!"  
"Yeah," you say, wondering where, exactly, your ancestors are.  
"C'mon," he says. "I've gotta introduce you to Psii and Sol. They'll be so psyched to meet you."  
You follow him into his leisureblock, where two adults are standing awkwardly. The shorter of the two gives you a slight wave.  
"Guys, this is Sollux," Mituna says. "He's my descendant."  
"Hang on," the adult that waved to you says. "If you're my decsendant, and he's your descendant, then who's the Psiioniic's descendant?"  
"Technically," Mituna says. "He's the Psiioniic's descendant. But since Psii's technically me, I thought we could share him."  
"That's not how it works," Mituna's ancestor says. "If you shared him as your descendant with the Psiioniic, then he could share you as his descendant with me, because we're technically the same person."  
"Aw, fine," Mituna says. "He's Psii's descendant, not mine. There, happy?"  
"Yes," Mituna's ancestor says. "Now, Sollux, I'm Soleil, or the Techniic if you'd like to be fancy. I'm Mituna's ancestor and your pre-scratch self. It's nice to meet you."  
"Uh, it's nice to meet you too," you say. Manners most definitely aren't your strong suit.  
Soleil turns to your ancestor. "Now, would you like to introduce yourself?"  
"Sure," your ancestor lisps. "I'm both the Psiioniic and the Helmsman, but you're welcome to call me Psii."  
You nod, unsure of how to respond. "I'm Sollux, or twinArmageddons if you have Trollian."  
"Nice," Mituna says. "Now how's about we play some vidya games?"  
"Power's out," you say. "Sorry."  
"Oh, yeah," Mituna says. "That was dumb."  
"Or, we could just talk to each other," Soleil says.  
"That only works if we've got something to talk about," Mituna says. "Otherwise, it's just small talk, and small talk sucks ass."

-

You spend about an hour an a half getting to know your 'family'. Psii was an anti-Empire rebel before the rebellion failed and he was installed as the helmsman for the Battleship Condescension, where he served for the rest of his artifically elongated life. Soleil became the Empress' chief software technician and a computer science pioneer after inventing a revolutionary programming language. Mituna played the game just like you did, but spent three sweeps in his session, and sacrificed his brains and his psionics at the very end to protect his friends against the Black King.  
As you're finishing up the story of how you spent three sweeps wandering the afterlife with your moirail, there's an ominous rumble from deep inside the building, then the power comes back on.   
"Sweet," Mituna says, glancing at the lights. "Now we can finally play vidya games."  
Good things, of course, don’t last, so as Mituna works on staring up his console, the lights flicker, dim considerably, then go back out.  
“Fuck,” Mituna says.   
“I have a feeling that I need to go back downstairs,” you say. “If the power’s flickering like that, something’s probably going on.”  
“There’s a downstairs?” Soleil asks.  
“Um, yeah,” you say. “We’re on the sixteenth floor. Did no one think to look over the railing?”  
“Holy shit,” Mituna says. “We can’t be the only trolls here.”  
“We aren’t,” you say. “The latest head count is 78.”  
“How the hell do you know this?” Psii asks.  
“I woke up about four hours before everyone else did,” you say. “The people who were alive at the end of the game woke up another four hours before I did.”  
“Wait,” Mituna says. “There are twelve of us, and we have twelve ancestors. That makes forty-eight. Where’d the other thirty come from?”  
“Our session brought another universe into existence,” you explain. “There were sixteen humans that were involved, and their session brought ten separate sprites into existence through retcon shenanigans. A third session linked up with ours, which added four cherubs.”  
“Humans? Cherubs?” Soleil asks.  
“Aliens, basically. Cherubs are a lot like snakes, and humans look a lot like we do now,” you say. “We were reincarnated as half-human, half-troll, and maybe a miniscule part cherub.”  
“I was wondering about that,” Mituna says. “I mean, I thought we were entirely human, but it’s not that much of a difference.”  
"Any other important information you neglected to tell us?" Psii asks.  
"Yeah," you say. "But I don't think you want to hear it."  
"Why not?" Soleil asks.  
"Well, think about it this way," you say. "Alternia was a violent place, and a lot of the violence was perpetrated by adults and highbloods. Guess who are currently inhabiting the bottom floors? Adult highbloods."  
"Shit," Psii says. "Anyone high profile?"  
"Orphaner Dualscar, the Grand Highblood, Mindfang, the Dolorosa, and Her Imperious motherfucking Condescension," you say. "Thank fuck we're god tier."  
"God tier?" Soleil asks.  
"It's where you get a bunch of fancy powers and wings and shit," Mituna says. "Check it."  
He ceases rocking back and forth on his heels to grab an apple from the fruit bowl and shrivel it up using Doom powers. Psii looks at the remnants of an apple like it's the coolest thing he's ever seen, and Soleil looks disgusted.  
"The powers are cool, yes," you concede. "But the best part is the conditional immortality."  
"Conditional immortality?" Psii and Soleil ask at the same time.  
"Conditional immortality," you confirm. "We can only die permanently under two circumstances; Just or Heroic. Just means that you've done so much evil that you actually deserve to die. Heroic means that you sacrificed yourself to keep someone else from dying."  
"What happens if we're mortally wounded but it isn't Just or Heroic?" Psii asks.  
"We die, but only temporarily," you say. "It takes about thirty seconds for us to either die permanently or ressurect."  
"So Her Imperious Fishbitch can kill us as many times as she wants, but we won't stay dead?" Psii asks.  
"Exactly," you say. "And because we're on a completely different planet with very little Alternian technology, it will take her sweeps of effort to elsalve us as helmsmen."  
"Got it," Psii says. "What happens when we get to the ends of our natural lifespans?"  
"God tiers stop aging at about 9 sweeps," you say.   
Psii nods. "I wondered how old I was."  
"Wait," Mituna says. "They're nine sweeps, and they're adults. I'm almost nine, am I an adult too?"  
"Almost," Psii says.  
"Cool," Mituna says. "How old is Sollux?"  
"Seven and a half," you say. "Half of the players from my session are, and the other half are six, because that's when they died."  
Mituna switches from flailing his hands excitedly to tapping on the counter. Since you started talking, he's been moving almost constantly, tapping or flailing or figeting or rocking on his heels. You wonder where he gets so much energy.  
Soleil seems to notice, too. "Mituna-  
He's cut off by the door to Mituna's block slamming open. "Sollux!" Karkat yells.  
"What?" you yell back, surprise evident in your voice. "What happened?"  
A feminine scream wrenches its way through your mind, followed by wailing. You freeze, and the wailing gets less intense, but doesn't stop. Fuck.  
Karkat shakes you by the shoulder. "Feminine voice, definitely older, won't regenerate, all others will," you gasp.  
"Fuck," he says. "The Condesce is having a regular old murder party down there, and, shit, are you sure it was only one?"  
You barely hear him. The wailing is loud, even after the first few seconds. The soon-to-be deceased must be very old and very powerful, psychically.  
"Yeah," you gasp. "Just one. Very old, very powerful, psionic, maybe telepath."  
"Shit, fuck, are you- can you help us keep her from killing more?" Karkat asks, an air of desperation in his voice.  
"I'll help," Psii says, with all the force of a command.  
"I'll- me too," you say.   
-  
The three of you leave Mituna's block at a full on sprint. Karkat leaps over the railing, then Psii does, then you do, then a new voice joins the caucophony, and you stutter, and your foot catches the railing, and you fall.  
The new voice is much weaker, but still strong, and much more masculine. Instead of screaming or wailing, it's yelling and swearing at you. You know on principle that this one's going to stay dead too.  
You haven't stopped falling, you realize. You go to catch yourself, but before you can, you flop bonelessly into someone's arms. Fuck.  
Dirk flashsteps over to the side, drops you, then rejoins the battle. You stand up, equip your shuriken, and throw yourself in with him.  
The Condesce has millenia of practice and training on you, so even with about fourteen of you fighting her, she's holding her own. The bodies on the floor are beginning to revive, and she can't keep them dead, meaning that the noise in your head is getting quieter and quieter, and you're able to focus. You throw shuriken after shuriken after psionic blast at her, and she dodges, but she's clearly getting tired. Roxy, Dirk, Kanaya, Rose, and Dave all attack her at the same time, and she can't block all of them at once. It's Dirk's sword that gets through, and cleaves her head off her shoulders.  
Everyone stops. Her Imperious Condescension's corpse falls to the floor as her voice continues wailing in your head. Threre's a beat, and it stops. Everything goes silent, except for the masculine voice that's stil yelling.   
"She's gone," you say. "She's not going to revive."  
A breath of relief echoes throughout the room. There are a few cheers and some clapping. Everyone relaxes.  
Someone who looks like an oldr version of Dirk steps forward from the back of the room. Dave sees him, and siffens. "Hey, Bro," he says.  
"Dave," Bro says. The room's gone quiet upon recognizing his presence. You heard stories of how shitty Bro was to Dave in the bubbles, and you don't doubt that everyone else has as well. "Dave," he repeats. "That was fight was fucking awful. Did you even try?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this awful? yes. do i care? no.

**Author's Note:**

> should i work on the other fifteen unsaved fics i have? probably. am i going to? no.


End file.
